


apocalypse

by angelpiss



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Because I can, Character Death, Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Non-Canonical Backstory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self Insert, dont mind me, kind of a slow burn but theres timeskips so idk if it really qualifies, mostly a collection of scenarios that kinda link together, reader and near are childhood besties, reader is a projection of the author, reader is matt's half sister, reader suffers from panic disorder and adhd, readers alias is carmen go with it okay, sheep boy has been my baby since 7th grade when will the universe let me love him, the plot of the actual story is kinda disregarded, this is so terribly self indulgent, uses she/her pronouns for reader, youll pry autistic near from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 15,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27057433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelpiss/pseuds/angelpiss
Summary: She didn't look - she couldn't because she knew she would absolutely disintegrate - but she squeezed, and he squeezed back and followed her gaze to the stars. While he might not have known what to say to her to make anything better, the silence wrapped knowingly around them both. It was familiar and it was warm, even as the night air swooped in to steal the heat off the tips of their noses. Ironically, silence was often where they could hear each other clearest, empty air loud with the energies of two emotionally unsure beings. Their silence was sweet and deafening and one of the most beautiful things they shared.
Relationships: Near | Nate River/Original Female Character(s), Near | Nate River/Reader
Comments: 25
Kudos: 32





	1. space song

Carmen and her brother had been at the home for almost a year. The closest thing she had to a circle of friends was said brother and his friend, whom she opted to follow around like a dog. 

Matt had always been and would always be Carmen’s best friend. They bounced between children's homes from the time she was four, ending up in the care of Watari and his staff as the pair excelled in academics - the grapevine between orphanages surely seemed to exist, but it barely made a difference to Matt, who eventually ceased to apply himself. The young boy was fascinated by technology. His sister was equally as intelligent, if not more, but expressed hatred for compliance with adults. They were dropped from the mysterious successor program less than a year after they took up residence at Wammy's.

When Matt and the blond boy hit it off almost immediately, Carmen didn’t know what to do other than observe their gaming sessions or join them outside on hazy mornings to catch frogs. They were both older but she barely had a problem keeping up with them in her schooling, so she studied with them. They ate meals next to each other, Matt in the middle of the two like glue. They’d slingshot pieces of food at each other from the dips of their spoons, most often Matt and Mello versus Carmen, much to her distaste. Laughs were plentiful in light of the two boys' idiotic dynamic. It was almost like she had a second brotherly presence, although she held a quiet disdain for the blond that she wouldn’t dream of expressing. She never once considered that Mello would replace her on the pedestal she sat upon in Matt’s heart, but she did become self-conscious when they suggested she stop bothering them all the time. Didn’t Matt always want her around? Weren’t they best friends? 

“Cam, don’t you have friends you can play with?” 

The girl glanced between the two taller boys. _No_. “I like hanging out with you guys.” 

"We're _guys_ , Carmen. We don't always want some girl sitting in on everything we do." 

Mello earned an icy stare. Was Matt seriously going to let him talk to her like that? She wasn't _some girl_ , she was Matt's little sister - she was Matt's best friend first, for god's sake. 

Nonetheless, Carmen spent time getting used to being alone, hating every second of it until she could will herself not to. Instead of watching them play video games, she’d sit in the common room and wordlessly stare at whatever program the other girls had on the television. Instead of venturing into the mid-morning fog to run around with them, she’d sleep in. She’d study for tests and do her homework alone, eat alone, play alone. 

Matt wanted to perceive his sister's behavior as that of a pouty little brat, but he knew deep down that she was just trying to make herself as small as possible. He was only nine but smart enough to understand what had made her that way. Sure, he had let Mello tell her to bug off, but he didn’t mean completely, so when he noticed her getting too distant, his heart broke a little and he invited her back in. 

The first and only time they were separated at all was that two month period of insecurity. Carmen didn’t hesitate to relish in every second she spent with her brother because after all, she felt safest with him. Matt had always put her before himself, and they got on exceedingly well for a pair of siblings. So close in age that the two redheads were almost like twins, the duo never had to doubt the loyalty that was stretched between them after that. Her forgiveness wasn't hard for him to earn at all, to Mello's slight annoyance.

She’d run to his room at night when she was scared. She’d knock on his door, all teary-eyed and shaky, and he’d grumble and get up and let her in. No one else saw how fragile she was, and she liked it that way. 

“Cam, it’s gonna be okay,” he reassured the younger as he sat next to her on the edge of his bed, arms locked around her shoulders as she sobbed into the shoulder of his pajama shirt. Her gasping and incoherent descriptions of what happened to rattle her had subsided, and she was calming down after about ten minutes. He’d assumed she had a bad dream, which he got too, but he never reacted to them as she did. It was almost like she couldn’t control it. 

“Mattie, there’s something-“ she choked. “There’s something wrong with me.” 

“What do you mean, Cam?” 

“I can’t-“ She pushed herself out of his grip to momentarily rub her arms up and down, squeezing every few inches as if to relieve tension. “I get these... these- I wake up and I can’t- I feel like I’m dying because it’s so hard to breathe!” she told him as a fresh set of tears streamed down her face. “Sometimes it happens when I’m awake too and I just- I can’t- it’s like I forget how to breathe and I- everything feels- I feel so overwhelmed and I-“ 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he interrupted her, wiping at some of her tears. “We should tell Roger. Are you sure it’s something bad? Are you breathing okay right now?” 

“Yes, I’m okay right now,” she pushed his hands away and furiously swiped at her face, “but just a few minutes ago my chest was so tight and now I’m so tired. I feel like I ran a race.” 

“Alright,” Matt sighed as Carmen allowed him to hug her close again. The idea of something being seriously wrong with Carmen’s health was enough to shake him a little, but he didn’t say so because he’d die with the thought before scaring her more. “Let’s tell Roger tomorrow morning then. I’m guessing you want to stay here.” 

She sniffled. "If you don't care." 

“Not at all, Cam.” He pulled back the covers and crawled under, and she followed, settling on her back with her head tilted onto her brother’s shoulder. As her breathing evened out, they both drifted into sleep. 

Many mornings at wake up call she was discovered curled up at her brother’s side like a cat. He didn’t understand why she would freak out the way she did, but he understood well enough that it was scary and painful for her and allowed her to cling to him. 

She was thought to have panic disorder. Matt was relieved to find out it was almost definitely non-fatal. Although her attacks happened more frequently at night, occasionally one would strike in the day and he would drop whatever he was doing to calm her down in an instant. When the other kids would ask why she would do that, he’d immediately become defensive and bark that she had a disorder that made her nervous, Mello hesitantly backing him up. Some of them thought she was strange, or maybe it was for attention. And while Matt couldn't quite comprehend her anxiety, he tried his best to throw himself between his sister and the torture her brain seemed to cause her, just like he had his whole short life with anything that threatened her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit shet, just some backstory. music immensely helps my writing so the chapter titles will likely all be song titles - not necessarily related to the chapter but something I either listened to while drafting or feel captures the tone of the chapter. going to apologize to anyone who might read this in advance for any plot holes as I'm working my way through the manga again for the first time in almost four years (and honestly probably not going to focus on canon a whole lot because it's just a big stupid sappy self-insert). near coming soon xx


	2. haunt me (x 3)

The first person to understand at all was the boy. 

Near moved in just before his eighth birthday. His pastel appearance stood out against the backdrop of the dim shelter, and even herself, the translucency that shrouded him contrasting her own baggy black pants and sweatshirt, something Carmen took notice of right away. He was incredibly quiet, even more so than her, and he spent even less time being social than she did. Granted, he didn’t have a super awesome older brother to pester all the time, but she once watched him put together the same blank puzzle three times in a row without looking up. He was ghostly in so many ways.

When he would look up, it was almost always to catch her staring at him. She’d blush furiously and avert her gaze, pretending to be very interested in her nails or the tattered armrest of the chair or the book that sat open to a random page in her lap. After that, she wouldn’t look back at him. He probably thought she was weird. 

They were both nine when she worked up the courage to sit next to him on the floor and ask him questions about his toys, or school, or whatever she could scrap together in her mind as acceptable to talk about. She merely received curt answers, mysterious glares, and prolonged silence. She had trouble placing his vibration, unlike everyone else. He was largely unreadable. He _definitely_ thought she was weird. 

“Near?” 

“Yes?” 

“I really like your hair.” 

It was true, she had since she first saw it. It was snowy silver, not curly, not straight, not thin, not thick. It reminded her of a cotton ball, and she often caught herself wondering if it felt as soft as it looked. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled after a short pause, not looking up from his robots. 

She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by her or not, so she pressed on. Carmen’s fascination was piqued, to say the least. 

Their brief, mostly one-sided conversations had morphed into what could be considered a legitimate albeit quiet friendship by the time they were both twelve. Sitting in the common room playing until late in the night became dozing off on each other’s bedroom floors after studying for hours. His rigid and shy nature made sense to her, and her anxious bouts didn’t phase him. They found a strange sense of calm in one another’s habits, quirks, and ways of being. Carmen dared to consider him her next best friend, behind only Matt. 

Well aware of the successor program, Carmen and Matt heard the news of L’s death shortly after Roger had informed Near and Mello. Near was at the top of the successor program and would continue L’s search for infamous mass murderer Kira. Carmen felt a secret sense of pride in her friend, while he seemed to think nothing of it. 

With his fifteenth birthday approaching, an enraged Mello left. 

Matt was torn. The idea of disappearing the same way Mello did had crossed his mind only once before Carmen invaded the thoughts following. He could not leave his sister, not without telling her. 

Matt weighed the good and the bad, and as much as he would hate the look of heartbreak that would cross her face when he’d tell her, he was going. 

Three soft knocks sounded at her door. 

“It’s open,” she called quietly, half-expecting Near, half not knowing who to expect. She usually turned up at Matt’s dorm at night, never the other way around. 

Red hair and glasses poked their way in. “Are you busy?” 

“No, just looking over some stuff.” She set the notes in her hands to the side and pushed a few books out of the way to make a space for him to sit. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he breathed, slumping onto the mattress in front of her, shrugging. “I, uh...” 

“You never come to my room. What’s up, Mattie?” She could see through him and he knew it. 

“I’m going to go after Mello,” he said quietly, knowing that if he didn’t just spit it out, he never would. He cast his vision downward as her eyes widened at him. 

“Mattie, you-“ she stumbled over her words for a moment. “You- you can’t, Matt, he was so stupid to do that and you know it. How am I supposed to- I can’t- you can’t just... I’ll never-“ 

“You’re safe here, Cam. Mello’s not safe out there.” He looked back up at her through the sunny lenses. “I’ll come back and get you, you know. Who knows, maybe he’ll want to come back, too, and we won’t even be gone for that long.” 

Carmen tossed herself into his arms. “Matt, I’m gonna miss you so much. What the fuck?” 

She’d picked up cuss words from him. He smiled softly as the f-bomb left her mouth so casually. 

“You don’t think I’m gonna miss you too?” Matt’s words were hushed as he embraced the girl. “I’ll come back for you, wherever you end up.”

“You better swear on our mom, dude.” 

“I fuckin’ swear on our mom, dude, alright?” 

Both of their tones were nonchalant but when they pulled back, twin sets of brown eyes were glazed over. 

“You’re my other half, Mattie. Seriously.”

“I’m running away, not dying.” 

“Okay, and? Who knows how long you’ll be gone.” She put both hands on his shoulders and shook him a little. “You’re my rock, dude. If you do anything stupid and die I’ll kill you.” 

“I know you will,” he chuckled. “I’ll be fine, okay? So don’t even worry about it, please. I’m gonna go in an hour or two when I know the coast is clear and me and Mello are gonna fuck some shit up and I’m gonna come to get you after all this bullshit is over and we’ll split a cig. I love you, Cam, seriously.” His hands were on her shoulders now too, shaking her slightly. 

“By the time you get back, I’m gonna need to bum my own. I just know the stress you’re about to cause me. I’m gonna need the whole cig. I’m gonna need the whole pack, dude.” 

A half-hearted laugh drifted between them, and a last hug ensued. 

“I love you too, Mattie.” 

“If I get back and you haven’t snogged Near yet I’ll actually beat you up.” 

An offended expression contorted her features as she jumped back to swat him in the chest. “Shut up, Near’s my friend.”

“Your friend that you wanna snog.” 

“Maybe so.” 

Neither of them laughed again, and he stood. For only a second he contemplated changing his mind. 

“I’m gonna go finish getting my shit together, ‘kay?” 

“Okay. Love you. Be careful.” 

“Love you.” He grabbed the sides of her face and pressed a short kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll see you soon, Cam.” 

Without another word, he dismissed himself. His fingertips on the knob were the last she saw of him. _I’ll see you soon, Cam_. 

And her days became exceedingly monotonous. No one to piss off all day, or run to at night. Near was a solid study buddy and didn’t seem to mind listening to Carmen’s complaints every now and then, but she couldn’t by any means impose Matt’s role onto him. Hell, Near was two months younger than her. And it’s not like she wanted to think of him as a brother, anyway. 

As Near’s time was increasingly consumed by the Kira case, Carmen found herself studying alone, playing alone, eating alone again. She took up drawing and writing and dancing and cooking, her hyperactive imagination feeding into notebooks full of stories and pictures and clumsy routines performed for Linda on the carpeted floor of the common room and surprisingly not-horrible meals. She missed her brother with her whole being, so it was essential to occupy her time with something, _anything_ , to avoid getting sucked into the swirling black hole that seemed to rest menacing between her ears. Every day she wished she could hug him or slap him in the head one more time. 

She stayed with Near for short periods of time, only long enough that she didn’t consider herself to be a bother. Conversation between them was sparse, mostly about the case. She brought him plates of the food she made when she knew he hadn't eaten in days, and draped blankets over his little frame when he'd fall asleep sitting up with his face against his knee. She wondered if he was annoyed by her almost motherly tendencies, but if he was, he had never expressed irritation toward them - Near never expressed anything after all, and he had never even considered it until he was fifteen and she was sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go fellas xx


	3. night and day

“Carmen."

The girl in question’s head snapped up from the sketchbook in her grasp, but he was not looking at her, focused rather on a growing tower of dice in front of him. 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you do during the day?” 

She blinked. _Well, I sleep until as late as I possibly can. The only two important people left in my life are largely unavailable whether it be physically or emotionally and it consumes every single one of my conscious thoughts and I drown it out as well as I possibly can by throwing myself into wild fantasy worlds and turning my lungs black._ “I just study and write and stuff. I’m doing driver’s ed right now. Sometimes I make dinner for the kids if Roger gets things I can cook with.” She glanced down at the lines on the page. 

Near was silent for a moment. He dropped another die on the tower. Three Rubik’s cubes that all had different color schemes served as a base for the structure, per her suggestion. 

“Keep me company whenever you have free time. I like bouncing ideas off of you.” 

Carmen wasn’t sure if it was a command or a request. Regardless, when the initial surprise at his words had subsided, she was elated. She tried her best to contain it. 

“Of course.” 

Carmen could not keep up with him. She was smart, sure, a brilliant strategist (which she attributed to her overthinking), but the work he did sometimes made her head spin. She wondered why he wanted her around so often, as she usually felt like he was miles ahead of her. 

Nonetheless, she took in every day she spent on the thinly carpeted floor of the big library with him, building card towers, stacking dice, doing puzzles. He was, by definition, a mess, and a hyper-focused one at that. She took notice of his depleting health and hygiene before anyone else and started bringing him water and healthier snacks. Showers were daily suggestions but happened maybe every other day. She’d bring her brush and comb through his tangly hair, the result of his insistent twirling and tugging on it. She encouraged (read: forced) him to get up every once in a while to stretch in an attempt to conserve his deteriorating posture, walk around, let his eyes catch a break from the strain of his computer screen. Sleep was hard to come by for him, but something she valued, and eventually the sight of her curled up at his side foregoing an ideal, comfortable rest in her bed in favor of staying with him inspired him to lay down, too. She was always voicing her concern about his sleep schedule, after all. 

A few days before his sixteenth birthday, she gave him a haircut. She’d been cutting her own hair since she was thirteen, so he somewhat trusted her to do his. Above all else, he really just needed one. 

His overgrown mop then looked similar to how it did when he was younger; still long enough to reach his ears and frame his face with wisps of white, but not so long that it hung in his eyes anymore. He sat on the counter of the bathroom, eyes flicking between his reflection above the sink and Carmen as she swept the clippings of his hair into the garbage can. 

“Thank you, Carmen.” 

She stopped, but barely. He noticed anyway. She had a way of knowing that he appreciated the things she did (he proved to be more of a _show, don’t tell_ type of person) but it occurred to her that this was the second time she’d ever heard him thank her verbally, the first being when she'd complimented his hair when they were nine. 

“It’s no problem, Near.” 

A subtle smile lingered on his features, and as per usual, she never looked up to see it. 

Once she was done and had returned the broom to the linen closet, he hopped down from the counter, took hold of her wrist, and wordlessly folded her into a hug. Usually, he was indifferent to physical displays of affection, if not averted to them, but Carmen was becoming increasingly special to him, and he was too aware of it. How long had he wanted to hug her before right then? He couldn’t recall at the moment as she secured her arms around his neck - he was just tall enough that her head could fit in the crook of his shoulder. Her cherry red hair smelled like tea tree oil and lavender. 

Almost as suddenly as he initiated the action, he pulled away. She swore his pale face emitted a warm glow that wasn’t usually there, but maybe it was just the hue the evening sun coming through the window painted the bathroom in. She was sure hers was glowing, too. 

“I’m going to make chicken and peppers over rice. Want me to bring you some?” 

“Sure, but no peppers.” 

“Got it.” 

“And put the chicken on the side of the rice rather than over it.” 

She giggled a little at his pickiness. “Okay, Near.” 

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes before they both exited the bathroom. As she strayed to the kitchen, he shuffled back to the library. 

Soon, a steaming plate of soy-coated chicken with white rice on the side was placed next to him. Carmen flipped open one of her many notebooks and clicked open a pen as he ate slowly, ever focused on his notes, his laptop, and the numerous toys arranged before him. 

She picked up his plate silently once he was finished, letting her hand momentarily drift over his cloudy hair as she passed him and left the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> carmen is 100% a projection of myself I'm so sorry lmao xx


	4. im closing my eyes

He recalled one of the numerous times Mello decided to kick him around and she came to his rescue. 

_“Near, come outside!” Linda yelled as a cluster of orphans made its way to the doors._

_“I’m fine, Linda.” He didn’t look up._

_Mello was trudging down the hallway to the common room, a redhead unknowingly behind him._ What a fucking weirdo. _Slowing to a stop, he eyed the small boy on the ground._

_“You ever see the sunlight, creep?”_

_That’s what he was, a creep. Mello perpetuated the rhetoric and the murmurs among the other kids confirmed it._

_Near wasn’t opposed to confrontation, but he silently wished Mello would leave his insecurity at the door of the classroom instead of dragging it around with him everywhere else. Neither of them was stupid, but Mello always managed to make himself feel inferior, translating into a huffy disdain for the younger boy. Near didn’t hate him, but Mello sure seemed to feel that way._

_A boot-clad foot scrambled up the puzzle he was working on, bending a few pieces in the process. He just sat, not sure what to do. He wasn’t a physical person. His words wouldn’t fail him, but they might earn him a smack or two._

_Her words wouldn’t though - she had leverage. Carmen liked Near, and Matt loved Carmen, and Mello liked Matt, and if she caught Mello picking on Near she’d make sure Matt would put him in line if she wasn’t capable to._

_“Was that necessary?” Her expression seemed genuinely confused, but her tone said otherwise._

_“Here comes Carmen to save the day.”_

_She approached the two, taking note of Near’s gaze locked on the ground. “Leave him the hell alone.”_

_“Pretty pathetic that you need a girl to protect you, Near.”_

_She pushed him by the shoulders and told him to shut it. Near was frozen on the floor, puzzle piece clutched in his fingers._

_“I’ll make Matt kick your ass if you keep it up.”_

_He left them with a dry laugh, a cold glare, and a hair flip._

_She plopped down on the floor next to him once Mello was out of sight, immediately trying to salvage battered puzzle pieces. She muttered apologies and tried to catch his eye but he just shook his head ever so slightly, calmly shoving pieces back together._

And he shook his head ever so slightly again, back on the floor of the library. She was distracting. No, her absence was distracting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter to end today xx


	5. lavender blood

This was becoming alarming for Near.

In the small but prominent spaces between his persisting focus on the case was Carmen. She was so sweet to him, and he often wondered what for.

When she was showering, or cooking, or busy with work of her own, he found he was impatient for her to return to the library. His life had consisted mostly of finding ways to coexist with others that didn’t make him feel incredibly awkward, and never did he think another human being could provide him with such comfort by just existing.

When she got her driver’s license, her disappearances were more frequent, but she was never long and always came back with a snack or a toy or a story to tell him to make up for the time she was gone.

God damn it, he worked better with her around. The scents of cigarette smoke and tea tree oil and lavender equated to focus. How was he supposed to say that?

Furthermore, when he turned seventeen and his professional partnership with United States intelligence regarding the Kira case looked to form a special New York-based unit that he was to be in charge of, how was he supposed to leave her?

After he told her he would be going to America and they spent a few days packing him up, checking and rechecking his laptop’s software security, and hugging more than they ever had over the last nine years, he made a last-minute decision to enlist her.

“But Near, for what?”

“Your strategic reasoning has always been sharp and I think you could continue to benefit the case.” Sure, that was true, and it had been from the beginning, but he wanted her with him for comfort purposes more than anything. He wracked his brain wondering why it was so difficult to just _say_. 

Her eyes searched his but he wouldn’t look right at her.

“Near, I-“

“Nate. That’s my real name.”

She faltered before repeating it. The sound of it in her voice made him fidget with his fingers.

“Ray,” she said after a breath.

He met her eyes.

“That’s my name.”

And he repeated it.

And she drove them to Bristol Airport, twice the prospected amount of luggage in the backseat, with Roger’s reassurance that he and Watari would pick the car up the next day. Near sat with his legs folded up in the passenger seat and his fingers curled around a lock of his hair, watching the peachy sun drench her features a balmy orange as she smoked a cigarette.

The flight boarded at 9 pm and took off a half-hour later. The only two in the row, Carmen intertwined her left hand with his right as she felt him tense at the motion of the plane. Squeezing gently and shifting ever so slightly closer to her, Near tucked his feet up onto the seat, laid his head on her shoulder, and shut his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boom boom boom indulgent self-insert forgive me father for I have simped xx


	6. yeah right

A sensation entered her consciousness from the left side of her. She glanced over, free hand of the boy unconsciously latched onto a strand of her long velvety hair. He emitted light snores, his other hand was slack in hers, and the weight of his fluffy head tucked into her neck made her stare at the luggage compartment above her in thought. Carmen was content. Would he be comfortable enough to do this with someone else, she wondered? She had never seen him sleep before. She knew he did, he had to, but during the ungodly hours they spent flipping through notes, climbing the kitchen counter for the cookies Roger hid, and theorizing about the case, about life, about the wildest and most mundane things, he always drifted off after and woke before her. She supposed Roger had seen him asleep, but it wasn’t uncommon for the boy to be up and moving well before wake-up call.

It was also one of the only times she’d seen him with shoes on. Sock-footed was his default, even on the rare occasion he ventured outside. In true Near nature, they were white and clean and uncreased from lack of use. The laces were pulled tight, but the ends of the strings were tucked into the inside rather than tied. He did such strange things, had such odd little tendencies. He was so brilliant but so unaware at the same time. He hadn’t even tied his shoes. Did he know how? Did anyone ever show him how to?

She was overthinking again. Near probably knew how to tie his shoes and just didn’t. It didn’t stop her heart from sinking a little. He was the most observant, most clueless human being she’d ever met. She wished she could be in his head. She wanted to know the machinations of his thought processes, the reasoning behind his little idiosyncrasies, the things that made him the way he was. She felt momentarily cemented from the neck down in her perception of him. It struck her how beautiful she thought he was, inside and out. So confusing, so indecipherable, but so stable in his work. Was he compensating for instability in other areas?

The overhead compartment started to contort the longer she stared through it, so she tore her eyes back down to his pale fingers lazily tangled within hers. Now was not the time to try to fix her friend. When it came down to it, he was incredibly bright, just a little codependent. He didn’t need her, he just needed someone.

Carmen rested her head gently against his, let her eyes flutter closed, and pretended to be asleep for no one other than herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some carmen thoughts xx


	7. teenage blue

Carmen found herself surrounded by people with incredibly diverse skill sets and perspectives at SPK headquarters. Near had been an efficient investigator back in Winchester but here, he seemed to thrive, and she loved to watch it. She feared her impending detachment from him - he had other people at his disposal to remind him to care for himself, to drive him places, to bounce ideas off of. 

Nonetheless, basic health and hygiene were things she continued to take the liberty to push upon him. She knew it was because she truly cared for him, but she wanted to before anyone else could. Showers, meals, and other routines she slipped into tended to involve dragging him along with her, ordering him to brush his teeth, comb his hair, hydrate himself. Near was technically her boss, but she wouldn’t give up her almost-maternal habits just because she was working for him. They’d grown up together, damn it. 

Rest became even scarcer than before. Near and Carmen both had their own sleeping quarters, but they were occupied rarely. Repeats of late nights in the library at home played out on the floor of the screen room, the buzz of technology and light of monitors underscoring their hushed conversations and short naps at early hours in the morning. Carmen had been getting less shut-eye than she ever had, but every odd-hour cigarette break and fleeting moment spent gazing into his silver eyes as she fought off fatigue were worth more than rest. A greater cause was at stake, and what she missed in her sleep wouldn’t wait. 

Carmen lifted herself off the floor, glancing at the digital clock on one of the monitors. _3:56 am_. Near was occupied with an array of finger puppets, laptop set beside him. She stretched her arms upwards, popping the joints in her shoulders, elbows, neck, and back. 

“I’m going to go smoke. Why don’t you take a break and come sit with me?” 

Near didn’t look up, a short silence falling between them. Her addiction, picked up from her brother, wasn’t something he ever berated her for despite his awareness of how unhealthy it was. He sort of wished she would stop, but at this particular moment, he was grateful for the momentary distraction. Silently, he pushed himself off the floor as well, socked feet padding lightly behind barefoot ones to Carmen’s bedroom. 

She pushed open her windows and a chilly draft swept in, along with the gentle lights that seeped in from the buildings around them. A small circular table was placed under her window, an ashtray, lighter, and multiple empty blue boxes strewn across it. Only a single chair sat adjacent to it, so she pulled over a wheeled desk chair for him. 

Carmen sparked the lighter as Near situated himself into his bent-up posture on the leather chair. Bringing her feet up onto the seat of her own in a crouched position of her own, something she’d undoubtedly picked from him, she breathed in a hit, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling it out the window into the city air. 

His bright white attire nearly looked iridescent in the muted morning darkness. The half circles under his eyes stood out shockingly from the rest of him, and as she let her gaze drift from his face to the cityscape beside them, they both just missed each other’s eyes as he glanced over to her. 

Her red hair was tucked behind her ears, and her soft jawline flexed ever so slightly with each drag she took. Her slender fingers flicked away ash into the dusty tray. 

The cigarette was burned about halfway down when his foot made contact with her kneecap, lightly of course. 

“Let me try it.” 

Carmen looked to him as if he'd told her to do a backflip, breathing out. “No, Near.” 

He blankly held her stare as she took another hit. She raised her expressive eyebrows, exhaled, looked from the stick back to him, shrugged a bit, and finally, offered it to him. 

Near took it between his middle and index fingers, how he had noticed her hold it. Bringing the filter to his lips, the boy inhaled, coughing it out almost straight away. 

Carmen giggled as she eased the cigarette from his grasp, waiting for his fit to subside. 

“That is absolutely horrible.” 

“You get used to it.” 

“My head feels funny.” 

“That’s called a buzz, Nate.” 

The tingling in his shoulders and her saying his name made his brain fuzzy. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, and suddenly the heaviness he felt, partially due to the nicotine and partially because of the lack of sleep, made his eyes droop.

Carmen scrunched the filter to a pea-sized ball in the ashtray, turning back just in time for Near to lean forward and grab both the armrests on her chair, closing the space between them by wheeling himself to her and letting them collide with a light _thump_. 

He wasn’t sure what his plan was. He always had a plan, but it dissolved from his mind as soon as she met his eyes. A short staring contest ensued, and when they both reached the realization of how close their faces were to each other, the two jumped back, but only a bit. 

Carmen’s mind spun and went blank all at once as his eyes bore into hers. He looked so exhausted and so gorgeous with the light meeting the side of his face, his silvery locks colored a faint ochre, the faint freckles that scattered his cheeks camouflaged by the ambient flickering of the bustling night below them. _What the hell am I waiting for?_

Nearly a decade of subconscious admiration and unspoken thoughts manifested themselves through a gentle grip on either side of his jaw and someone else’s mouth on his own. It was foreign for both of them, brimming with wide-eyed inexperience, bumped noses, and uncertain hand placement. 

The smell of smoke lingered in the little space between them. It seemed to end as soon as it began, and then eye contact couldn’t be made, words couldn’t be formed, movement ceased. Two foreheads rested together, faces alight with rose dust in the subdued atmosphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx


	8. speaking sonar

Things were kept professional, of course. Around other members of the organization, everything was exceptionally light, as if it wasn't already - a pinkie wrapped around the other’s under the table, a hand brushing another while a puzzle was put together, a short glance that would have looked no different to anyone else in the room, but they knew. Neither of them wanted to rush into anything, it seemed. It only had been _eight years_ , after all. 

When Lidner asked Carmen what exactly her and Near’s relationship was while they both stood in front of the coffee machine, Carmen stumbled over her words for a second. What could their relationship be called? 

Best friends was outdated. Maybe he had been her best friend at some point when they were just two gross little kids who hid from loud people in the orphanage with each other and stole snacks from the kitchen late at night. 

Siblings was too close, and it always had been. Matt was her brother, and he was her only brother, and despite their upbringing together, she didn’t want to see Near as a brother. She wanted his lips on hers again. 

Lovers was too rushed. They had kissed once, and talked about it very little, and not labeled anything, and were both extremely awkward in figuring out how to proceed from where they were. 

"I’m like his assistant,” Carmen blurted. “Kind of.” 

Halle narrowed her eyes at the younger woman with a smirk. “His assistant, huh?” 

“Yeah, sort of.” She dumped a fourth packet of sugar into the cup of coffee he had requested. “And I mean, he’s kind of like mine too, in a way. I think we just bring out the best in each other.” 

“When two people bring out the best in each other... isn’t that called a twin flame?” the older pointed out. “Or a soulmate, or something?” 

“We just know each other really well,” Carmen dodged Halle’s words as her face flushed. 

“You’re exceptionally patient with him, Carmen,” Halle continued. Carmen really wished Halle wasn’t psychoanalyzing her right now. “More so than the rest of us could dream of being, I think.” 

She was spinning, sweating. “Well, I do love him,” she mumbled. “He’s been the only consistent thing in my life since I was, like, dumb little, so.” 

Halle nodded, that same smirk on her face. “I think you should tell him that.” 

Carmen met the elder woman’s stare, and it glinted with... intuition? Assurance? To Halle, the teenage girl was transparent. 

So she nodded back and smiled a little. “I’ll get around to it one day.” _He wouldn't understand._

“We are all quite busy right now.” 

A short laugh passed between them both as they headed back to the screen room, Carmen's nervous and Lidner's knowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im editing this drunk if ur reading this i love you xx


	9. i was all over her

It was like a breath was being held between both of them. A head on a shoulder here, a finger brushing facial features there. Words were chosen carefully and spoken quietly. He was focused on the case, and she was focused on making sure he didn’t tear himself apart working on the case. 

The base was stormed by Kira zealots and they were forced to evacuate. The second time she'd seen him with shoes on. Allowed a brief window of time to get their bearings, the SPK was relocated to Japan. 

She knew this feeling as soon as his hand slipped into hers on the flight; the feeling that they were apart of something bigger than themselves. 

Chasing the Mafia down began to feel like circumventing the entire investigation, but thanks to Mello, they had a significant lead. He led Lidner into headquarters at gunpoint and delivered enough important information for Near’s plan to surge forward, his sights dead set on Light Yagami, the second L. The end of the case was close. 

The blond had looked at Carmen briefly. Her facial structure was so strikingly similar to Matt's, her burgundy hair parallelling his. The silent fire in her brown eyes when he turned his firearm on Near teleported him back to Wammy's for a split second. He was barely surprised she was still here with him. He hadn't even bothered to ask Matt if they'd communicated. 

The sight of Mello's harsh scowl after so many years coupled with the news of the kidnapping reaching headquarters struck Carmen with the hope that maybe her brother was with him and she’d be able to hug him again. Hope was short-lived, however. 

Bodycam footage showed a fur-vested body slumped against a car, head of red hanging. A force pushed her to her feet from her chair, her hands were on the desk in front of her, her ears were ringing, there’s was so much blood around him, her vision was getting blurrier and blurrier and the sound around her faded out and maybe it wasn’t him? Maybe it wasn’t Matt, but whoever it was was wearing those stupid amber goggles he always wore and driving a car that looked exactly like his and had cherry-colored hair, the same as hers, the same as all the blood pooled around him, and everything was getting very unbearably loud. 

And she awoke in a ball in a bed, which was strange. She didn’t remember going to bed. She didn’t even know what time it was, but the darkness that encased the room told her it was either very late or very early. The light tapping of laptop keys registered in her brain, and as she rolled over to see an illuminated Near on her computer chair with a knee propped under his chin, hunched over in front of his screen, she realized it wasn’t just a bad dream and she hadn’t just jolted awake and everything that had made her so exhausted was all too real. 

Carmen had the instinct to cry again but no tears could seem to push themselves out onto her puffy face. She sighed quietly, the apparition in her room unaware she was up, and propelled herself to her feet in need of a cigarette. 

The flicking of the lighter was what caught his attention. Looking over his shoulder to see a puff of smoke leave her mouth just as she pushed the window open, Near was quick to wheel himself over to her, facing her as she plopped down in her own chair, just like he had that one time in her room back in New York. 

She seemed in a daze. He just stared at her face while she stared out into the night, flicking ash away out the window instead of in the ashtray. 

Near couldn’t gather words to say to her, so rather, he scooted a tiny bit closer, as close as possible, and grabbed the hand that rested in her lap, shoving his fingers into the spaces between hers. She didn’t look - she couldn’t because she knew she would absolutely disintegrate - but she squeezed, and he squeezed back and followed her gaze to the stars. While he might not have known what to say to her to make anything better, the silence wrapped knowingly around them both. It was familiar and it was warm, even as the night air swooped in to steal the heat off the tips of their noses. Ironically, silence was often where they could hear each other clearest, empty air loud with the energies of two emotionally unsure beings. Their silence was sweet and deafening and one of the most beautiful things they shared. 

She smoked two more cigarettes, and they kissed once more, and she cried and held onto his hand for dear life and he clasped back just as tight, and she kissed him again and again because oh god, he was all she had left now, and he kissed her back and dragged her to the edge of her bed and sat with her head in his lap until the sun rose, lulling her to sleep with feather-soft fingers in her hair because he didn’t know what else to do. He had never seen her so broken. 

“I am your boss, you know. If I tell you’re taking a break, that's final.”

“And he was my brother, so if I say I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he didn’t die for nothing, I don’t care what you tell me to do.” 

There wasn’t much left to do but wait, but it was personal now, and although she would never look it to her coworkers, Carmen’s blood was boiling every waking second she spent aware of the fact that he was gone. Near sternly telling her no had brought her authority issues through, and maybe it was inappropriate, but he found it sort of attractive. 

Near decided to put her in charge of monitoring the meeting at the Yellow Box. He’d have a bug on him recording conversation and she’d listen from headquarters. He wanted her far away from the inevitable mess, and she didn’t argue. She had no doubt, not when it came to Near’s meticulous planning. 

Carmen was stacking a dice tower on the desk in front of the multitudes of monitors as the warehouse conversation streamed into her brain through a headset. Although she couldn’t see what was going on, she, Lidner, Gevanni and Rester were all unable to poke any holes in Near’s theory and if everything went to plan, which it would, Yagami would be exposed as Kira. 

"I win, Near!" was heard from the inside of the building, followed by confusion. Carmen toppled the tower over from the bottom, dice scattering about in front of her and onto the floor. Someone was yelling, a creaky fan was turning, and Yagami tried to talk himself out of the trap he’d tumbled headfirst into. As Near resumed commanding the other three members present, Carmen smiled softly. This was the end. She thought of Matt. 

Her patience was tested as her team headed back. She scooped the dice back into their velvet bag, double-checked that the meeting was recorded, made a cup of coffee, smoked a cigarette, and sat in one of the many desk chairs, rolling herself back and forth between the wall and the wide desk in anticipation as she awaited their return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx


	10. run cried the crawling

“Glad it’s over?”

“Sort of. It was fun, don’t you think?”

Carmen couldn't tell if he was joking. “Yes, I had so much fun watching you work yourself nearly to death for five years.”

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”

“I know.” She kissed his cheek, and then the filter. Sat on the windowsill with the short fenced-in platform beneath their bare feet, a breeze drifted by the complex, drawing them closer together until their shoulders touched. 

He hit the cigarette three times, that was it. It still made him feel sort of tingly and lightheaded, which wasn’t unpleasant but still unfamiliar. He knew it was the nicotine coursing through his blood, but the intimacy he could just almost comprehend was at fault, too. He felt a similar dizziness when he kissed her, after all.

Carmen buried her brother in Japan, next to Mello. It was an empty service, if it could even be called a service. She clung to Near’s arm as they sat clumsily in front of the freshly laid dirt, silent tears rolling down her face. 

He was crouched in the odd little way he did with her warmth pressed into his shoulder. Every few minutes a shaky breath would abandon her lips and he'd just grip her knuckles harder until she did it back. It was okay, she had said it herself. He felt a peculiar mix of emotions as his eyes flickered from one headstone to the other. Carmen was the last of her blood. She was truly an orphan now, at seventeen. He didn't know how to feel for her, for he had no family to lose. It had to be painful. She had loved him so much. He wanted to feel sick for her. The way her eyes had lit up the evening after Mello broke into headquarters when she played with the idea that her brother was still trucking behind the blond and she might be able to tell him how much she'd missed him was special. Her eyes rarely ignited in the way they did right then, and Near had hoped she'd see him again, too, and just maybe that that little fire would stay forever. Her brother was her best friend. 

Mello had been such an ass, but Near didn't harbor resentment toward him. The elder was insecure. How could Near blame him for wanting to be the best? Furthermore, he played an integral role in the conclusion of the investigation. Neither of them would have surpassed L alone; Mello didn't pass in vain. Nonetheless Near felt a pang of guilt. It might have been himself, or Carmen, or any of his remaining teammates he'd grown so fond of. It hit him how hyperaware he was of the fact that death was hovering constantly in his peripheral and everyones, its clarity merely depended on what boundaries you set with it. He'd let it into his life so easily, and now he was seated on the grass in a great lot full of it. He squeezed her hand again, unprompted by anything but his thoughts. 

She left a cigarette at the foot of Matt's grave. Moving beyond the case felt only skin deep. Both were clueless about life, Near slightly more so than Carmen. They ventured back to England to collect the remnants of their childhoods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx


	11. kids

Her old dorm room had long since been given up to a new resident. The walls that were once plastered with doodles and poems had been repainted eggshell white, a contrast to the olive-y green she remembered being encased in for nearly a decade. The library looked strikingly the same with the exception of some new furniture. The same rug was draped across the common room floor, the windowsills were as dusty as ever, and the stack of papers in her hands accounted for the art she'd done years ago as well as her medical records and documents of identification. 

_Ray Costello  
26 June 1993_

She wondered if it was time to give up the stupid alias. Carmen. Carmen. Carmen. She never connected with it once throughout the lifelong span of being called that name. It was derived from _carmine_ , like her hair. When she was little she learned that the pigment called carmine was extracted from bugs. She had always bugged people. Her brother, for all his attention. Mello, for all the attention she stole away from him. Near, when he was busy. The other kids, when she'd have a meltdown and scare the shit out of everyone. Roger, to use the car. Herself. She bugged herself. Her mother's name was enclosed in the documents, too. She had bugged her mother to the point of neglecting her two children. Now her brother was dead and so were a bunch of other people and she was standing inside the very facility that taught her nothing but how to put others before herself to a point where it was detrimental to her peace of mind. It bugged her, bugged her so much that she kind of wished that she'd never been born. 

She went to shift the document to the underside and felt a pressure in the crook of her neck. She jumped slightly away from the weight and into the doorframe upon which she rested, immediately reminded of why she did keep going. 

After she realized it was him, his chin settled back onto its perch on her shoulder. "That's cute." 

The boy was referring to the little polaroid that had been hiding within her stack of papers, clasped in place by a rusty paperclip. It was a tiny square frame in which a sixteen-year-old Carmen was seated in a chair behind a fifteen-year-old Near crouched on the ground, combing through his wild white hair with a brush as he sat in front of his laptop with a faint look of protest on his face. The closed-eyed smile present upon hers as she leaned to the side was an indication of a simpler time. 

"You look annoyed at me." 

"I probably was."

She frowned a bit. _Linda_ was signed down in the corner of the photo. She remembered the time the girl had gotten ahold of Roger's polaroid camera and went around snapping pictures of everyone. She wondered where Linda was now. 

"If you didn't like having your hair brushed you could have said so." 

"The problem was that I did and I knew I'd want you to do it all the time, so I'd never get anything done." 

She couldn't recall one time he'd _asked_ her to brush his hair. "You have a lot of self-control, then." 

He just leaned into her. She was right, he never let himself enjoy anything. He was always thinking ten steps ahead, his introspective anxiety the antithesis of the anxiety she so naturally manifested outwardly. He admired it, the raw way in which she was able to express her emotions. Organization and neatness were outside of her realm of concern but she seemed so collected emotionally, allowing herself time to worry, time to analyze her intuitive nature and what she could do to improve the situations she found herself in. She was not afraid to feel, or assert based on what she felt. She let her emotions drive her work. He wondered how far she would've gone had she stayed in the successor program. She had a balance that he lacked, that Mello lacked. Sometimes she let it consume her, but Near barely let himself feel at all. They had things to learn from each other, and he considered that to be invaluable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was the end of everything in my notes on my phone so it's off the dome from here on out. updates might be a little slower xx


	12. best part

Nostalgia shot through Carmen's veins with every step she took as she roamed the halls. She peered at herself in the mirror of the bathroom where she'd cut his hair for the first time, trying to summon her younger self who had long red hair and a sparkling stare, as opposed to the self she saw now, who had a dull gaze and had traded flowing waves for an easy-to-manage bob. She hadn't considered how much she'd changed, or how much he'd changed, not while it was happening - but now she was realizing that he'd grown at least five inches taller than her, and they were both unbelievably tired no matter how much sleep they were allowed, and they had been severely taken advantage of for their abilities and thus were never given to chance to _not_ be tired because no one had ever told them how to set boundaries. She felt a sudden urge to burst into tears, but she didn't, she just let her eyes flick from herself to the white-haired boy, who also seemed to be emptily analyzing his own likeness. 

His fingers twisted around a rosary. She knew whose it had been. They all had had so much stolen away from them. Her chest hurt. 

"Be my girlfriend." 

Her tightening expression relaxed as his words registered. With a little hesitation, but straightforward. It would have sounded incredibly absurd to anyone who had observed their relationship over the previous years. Nearly a decade of learning how to tell what the other was thinking just by catching their eye, connected at the lips and the fingertips, and splitting smokes had proved nothing until verbalized. 

She didn't even think about it. "Of course." 

He glanced to her, and then back at himself, and a wide grin slipped before he could stifle it. She turned her head and looked him, not his reflection. Her eyes still brimmed with tears but now she was looking at him with amazement. His hand covered his mouth and he shut his eyes tight and she giggled and pulled it away and he knew his face was on fire and he didn't want her to see so he grabbed her back and hugged her impossibly tight. Her chest hurt for a different reason now, a reason she welcomed, and it was the two arms crushing her spine and the nervous smile pressed into her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ten years to get together... author's commitment issues and inability to pick up on social cues say hello xx


	13. moon river

In the two months between their eighteenths, the duo ended up back in New York. Headquarters was reinstituted slightly further from the city and Near was set to continue full-time as L's successor. Carmen, armed with a freshly-finished GED and minimal knowledge on how to find a living space or file taxes, prompted Lidner with all of their child-like inquiries. Halle proved to truly be a godsend as she walked them through the process of leasing an apartment with an astronomical amount of patience. The intelligence quotient between the teenagers had to be phenomenal, and yet their educational careers thus far had failed to provide them with means of independent survival outside of the orphanage. It was astonishing. 

It was a plain space. Studio style, cream-colored walls, a sliding door that led to a balcony with just enough room for two chairs and a little round table. The decor was limited to the messy drawings that Carmen tore out of her sketchpads, stacks of books, and toys. Just like all the spaces she'd occupied before, an ashtray and lighter were never far from reach. Rent was barely a problem with their combined salary from the last few years. Near had a _desk_. It was mostly for organization purposes, as he usually took his work either to the floor or headquarters. He felt like he spent more time organizing the damn desk than actually sitting at it and working, but it just wasn't what he preferred. The different drawers for different things were nice, however. Carmen's workspace sat directly across and facing away from his, consistently littered with drawings, stories, job applications. She worked under Near part-time as she searched for someplace that would just let her write or something. She realized her desperation to turn her emotions into art. Their way of coexisting was untroubled, if not unconventional. She'd drag him to bed, he'd beg her to go to the bookstore with him. The amount of information they were absorbing felt overwhelming at times, but their partnership had yet to fail them in terms of seemingly unsolvable puzzles. Harmony prevailed when they were together, and the long-overdue medical attention Halle suggested for both of them helped to even things out. 

When they were not together was when things were rocky. The investigation had cursed them both with unfortunate cases of survivor's guilt and post-traumatic stress. She coped with it openly, crying when she felt like it, tearfully pointing out things that would remind her of her brother. He'd drop dead before he let it get in the way of his work, and as long as she was there, all was fine. He traveled occasionally, however, and the instances in which she was not with him, he didn't quite remember how to function. 

He sat staring at the wall of the Japanese hotel room, tears blurring his consciousness, toy robot fumbling within his fidgety grasp. Rester was across the hall, and he knew if he had any concerns he could call his colleague, but he wanted to call _her_ , and he wasn’t sure what time it was back home. The place it had all ended was maybe an hour’s drive away, and it was like the demons were crawling down the road to meet him. He had done everything he would’ve at home - taken his meds, brushed his teeth, combed his ever-messy hair, stared at his laptop until either she dragged him to bed or his eyes couldn’t take it anymore and she wasn’t here so it was almost five in the morning and all he could do was slouch on the lumpy mattress with a budding headache wishing he could grab onto her hand and she could pull him into her by the waist and let him scream into her shoulder but he couldn’t, she couldn’t, she was across the globe and he felt oh-so suffocated so he caved and tossed the toy aside and dialed her number from his little smart device with shaking fingers in search of a little bit of solace. 

“Hi.” 

A little bit of tension was released from his shoulders as her voice came through the phone. 

“Everything okay?” 

He sniffled, took a breath, swiped at his eyes. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you.” 

“I’m coming home as soon as possible. We’re investigating two locations tomorrow and then packing everything up and running tests from home. I don’t like being here.” 

“I wish I could’ve come with you.” 

He hesitated. He didn’t want her to be back here. It hurt. “I just want to come home.” 

“Well...” she faltered. “Let me know when you leave. I’ll come to get you and we’ll get takeout and watch a movie or something. Is there anything you want me to pick up?” 

“Oreos.” His unoccupied hand locked around a piece of hair. “Please.”

Carmen laughed a tiny bit. “Okay.” 

“I miss you horribly.” 

“I miss you, too.” 

“Talk to me until I fall asleep, please.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and he was trying not to cry at how much her absence disrupted his sanity. 

“I restarted _A Clockwork Orange_. Want me to read it?” 

“Yes.” He didn't really give a shit about _A Clockwork Orange_ , but it was one of her favorites at the moment, so he curled up in a ball, head hitting the thin pillow and phone falling, on speaker, onto the comforter by his face. 

He caught some sleep, but his mind was still racing. It was mid-afternoon when he woke with the call still going. 

And his mind raced until he kissed her through the window of Halle's grey Civic in the damp tungsten-lit evening of the airport parking lot, luggage still slung about his shoulders. He barely remembered the flight but he didn’t care because her hands were on his face and there was a pack of Oreos on the passenger seat. 

They got McDonald’s, went home, and put on _Birdcage_ , but after about forty minutes they were restless and she helped him unpack and made a reminder to do laundry tomorrow. He ended up at his desk, unpacking papers, files, technology. He rustled through his work, scanning them with tired eyes, finger twirling a lock of hair. 

A chin on his head and two hands on his shoulders tugged him out of thought. He mindlessly shuffled through them for a moment more, reorganizing them, before closing an envelope and setting it down. 

She pulled herself back a little as he spun his chair around to face her. His stormy eyes looked as tired as ever, deep circles unwavering. 

“Come sit while I smoke.” 

And he was up, trailing behind her with his horrible posture and socked feet to the little balcony. The padded chairs were pushed close together, the table in front of them. She took the right and he took the left, and a cigarette was sparked and hands were clasped together and the stars peeked through holes in the clouds. Quiet conversation drifted between them. She held the cigarette to his lips. He blew smoke at her and she laughed and his heart swelled. Oh god, it was so perfect. The disaster that had been his upbringing had this beautiful constant running through it and he wondered if he’d ever be able to be away from her but pushed the thought out as quickly as he could because he knew almost for certain he'd never have to deal with such a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx


	14. chlorine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ill link the spotify playlist with the chapter titles' songs at the end of the chapter xx

She really found herself appreciating the little things, which made her feel weird and old. His chilly palm held tightly against hers filled her up with a warmth that made her shiver a bit. She felt as though she'd held tension in all of her muscles her entire life and it was finally beginning to let up. A panic attack had not dared cross her since her medication began to regulate within her brain chemistry, which seemed to her to be a miracle. She thought absently about one of the many episodes she'd had in Winchester before Near knew her and her disorder well enough to bring her back down to earth, and reflected on their growth as a weak smile rested upon her features. 

_He was on the floor, occupied with one of his numerous puzzles, she with a book while she sat curled up on the end of a little couch. The afternoon drear barely lit the library, and the two standing lamps cast it in a soft yellow. Its sereneness was overtaken slightly by the ever-present, silently feverish energy that emanated from the two kids like static._

_He'd heard her sigh deeply multiple times but barely had any second thoughts; that was until he glanced over to see her staring vacantly centimeters above the book in her lightly trembling hands, a contemplative expression drawing her lips tight and her eyebrows together. He looked back down at his puzzle, snapping the last few pieces into place before turning back to the girl._

_"Carmen."_

_Her eyes fluttered as she shut the book soundlessly. That familiar tightness was blooming like a rose under her ribcage, thorns poking holes in her seemingly balloon-thin lungs. She drew in another deep breath but found herself unable to release it, and the book hit the floor below her._

_"Carmen."_

_Her gaze panned over to where he was on the carpet, but she wasn't quite looking directly at him. He shifted about to try to get her eyes but she seemed to look through him no matter what._

_"Are you alright, Carmen?"_

_The girl shut her eyes. Was she alright, or was this the time she mistook a heart attack for one of her stupid little meltdowns and finally kicked the bucket? She wondered every time. Logic went out the window. She shook her head no._

_He crawled up onto the cushion next to her, eyes darting from the tears gleaming on her cheeks to her thumbs that cracked each knuckle of her other four fingers one by one in a frantic attempt to self-soothe. She wasn't hurting herself, so he saw no reason to stop her. Her breathing was concerningly uneven, but he didn't know how he could fix that, so he just sat next to her until she fidgeted with her hands to a point of squeezing so hard they flooded white. His own hands intervened, tearing hers apart from each other. He swallowed hard as a choked sob escaped her lips and she entwined her fingers within his._

_He knew this happened to her but he didn't quite know how to help. He tried to think of what her brother would've done._

_His resolution was to shake one hand from her death grip, much to her objection, and wrap his arm around her shoulders like he'd seen Matt do before, pressing their shoulders together in a maladroit fashion, resulting in a clumsy half-hug that left him nearly as tense as she was._

_She cried until she couldn't anymore and was reduced to ragged wheezing, a wet face, and squeaky apologies to the boy. He couldn't think of anything to say, and her grasp on his hand finally loosened, and he felt horrible for not speaking but he feared that anything he might've said would not encompass the fact that_ he _was sorry, and she had no reason to be, he just didn't know how to handle seemingly anything at all and for a moment he thought he might start crying, too._

I'm nervous too, _he wanted to tell her._ All the time, but what the hell can I do about it other than pretend I'm not?

_He decided that words would not comfort her, so he simply stayed leaned against her until she moved, picked up her book, and excused herself from the library with a smile he could tell was not real._

_The conversations that followed in the days after came across as overly-analytical to Carmen at first, but she figured out soon enough that this was one of the odd little ways in which he expressed that he cared - through prodding on like a detective until he had enough information and felt like he could truly understand._

The most recent panic attack she'd had was a much less confusing experience. Approaching nineteen, he'd figured out all the motions to go through to ensure minimum panic - cold pressure on her face, tight hugs, quiet words of reassurance ("you're not dying" being one of her favorites), and circles drawn with his fingers anywhere from her scalp to her back to her wrists. Logic ruled him, and it was exactly what she needed. He was certain she'd do the same for him, after all. 

A flickering thrust her back onto the balcony. In the midst of thought, her cigarette had gone out, and she watched as he reached over to relight it. The cherry sparked back to life and her gentle smile widened as she mumbled a sweet thank you. He returned the lighter to its place on the table and stated because he had done so, she had to let him hit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7GT3eLHuQeyWGAWAfkuvop?si=EOUVDL8rRjq6eGZHhgkWxA


	15. put a spell on me

They thrived on routine, both of them. It was an unorthodox system, but one in which they complemented each other well enough to survive like _actual_ adults - miraculous, truly. Settings would change, Carmen would settle into her habits as she always did, and she’d pull Near into them as she always had. She’d get restless and tire of repeating her days and neglect to attend to her schedule, so he’d take over the role of forcing her to continue self-care. She was the only reason he had started any actual processes of self-care in the first place, and he knew it. Where one noticed the other would fall behind, they compensated.

Each only twenty years old but in the same state they had begun - alone, but at least they were alone together. No one to impress or live up to or piss off. His hair was outgrown and she didn’t let her dwindling self-respect (thanks to her addiction) consume her anymore. The purest, most comfortable state they’d ever been in seemed to be with each other, even if it was a tired and repetitive life.

They argued occasionally, and even their arguments were soft with understanding. No voices were ever raised and squabbles were always solved exceedingly fast, but she was a little fierier than him and he had enough sass to last a lifetime and a half.

“I’m just saying I miss being around you so much.”

“Then you should’ve opened with that as opposed to the passive-aggressive remark you chose.”

He was right. Beating around the bush never got them anywhere because it so often went over both of their heads, and she was notorious for being able to dish it out but not take it herself.

She sat down next to him on the bed. “It wasn’t passive-aggressive, I-“

“It didn't state your intent as clearly as you later expressed it, therefore it was passive-aggressive.” He twirled a piece of wispy white hair, not looking at her.

“Come home earlier.” The answer seemed simple, albeit a bit selfish.

He yawned absent-mindedly. A case involving multiple drug rings had presented itself to him and it was the first one he could find himself sincerely invested in since the Kira case. Much of the investigation at that point depended on him being at the office, and it was true he had been leaving earlier and coming home later than usual.

“Come work for me again if you miss me so much,” he insisted, but it sounded more like an invitation to get off his back than a job offer. “You _do_ need a job.”

He wasn’t being mean. He was _not_ being mean. She knew he wasn’t. He was just blunt and she had to do her very best to not take it personally. She did want a better job, after all - preferably to get her big break as a novelist as soon as possible so she could just get lost in fantasy worlds forever and ever - but her slightly above-average self-taught art skills landed her part-time at a tattoo parlor and money wasn’t too tight at all and so she was fine while she looked around for something that really suited her. Didn’t Halle or someone have some damn connections that could land her a super sexy editing job or something?

“I’m _fine_ where I am, Nate,” she asserted, but her voice fell quieter. “I’m just... so used to being around you all the time. And now the only time I’m around you is when we’re both exhausted or sleeping.”

He was silent for a moment, eyes fixed on the ground. “Then let’s do something.”

She continued to look at him incredulously. “You said you were tired not five minutes ago.”

He finally turned his head to return her gaze. “I’ve been giving up sleep for other people my entire life.”

“You make me sound like an inconvenience.”

He blinked a few times. “Fine, I’ll go to bed then.”

“Fine, I’ll...” she trailed off as she watched him pull off his socks and crawl under the covers.

He tucked the blankets up to his nose, peeking at her, hiding his tiny smirk. She wasn’t quite done, but he knew she was almost there.

Carmen let out a sigh and pushed herself up to go turn off the light and close the curtain. After hobbling back over to the mattress while tearing off her own socks, she dove into the sheets beside him. “Go to bed with you. Compromise.”

 _You say compromise but this is a win for me._ “Compromise. Now that we’re here, what should we do?”

“Apologize to each other for being bitchy,” she suggested, her eyes big. “Because I don’t like being a bitch to you.”

“I’m glad you can admit you were being bitchy, but I was not. I was-“

“You were being bitchy, too.”

“My job is important.”

She sighed again, tangling her fingers together and biting her lip. “I know,” she whispered.

He shifted so that his forehead was pressed lightly to hers, gently shoving his hands into hers before speaking. “And I feel your absence like a headache when I’m not next to you.”

She nodded against him.

“And I won’t always be this busy,” he reassured her.

He’d gotten especially skilled at reassurance, which she appreciated beyond belief. "Okay, Nate."

He barely planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. Her saying his name still gave him butterflies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they do a fun little dance. carmen is a brat. im a brat. hc that near can get poetic and philosophical when he's tired because he does indeed feel very deeply but only lets onto that fact if he is uninhibited in some way xx


	16. neon moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut! smut! smut! soft fluffy cute smut that kinda stops in the middle and is horrible cause i am a lazy bastard and haven't written smut since jesus wore shortpants but just letting u know xx

He was hoping she would bring it up so he didn't have to. As long as he didn't have to be the one to _bring it up_ he could stay looking as level-headed and unbothered as he always did. It was simply opening up the conversation about such... _unfamiliar_ activities that caused him stress. Even in the event that he would bring it up, there was a solid chance he could stay blank-faced and cool - maybe he'd shut the hell down later and curl up into his introspection, but in the moment, his attitude wouldn't let him fail. 

In alignment with a great deal of their upbringing, the sex education they had been exposed to was dissatisfactory at best. Near could barely recall an instance in which he'd learned something, _anything_ useful in his youth throughout all the rigorous schooling he'd gone through about how to approach a situation such as _that_. He found himself making middle school-aged-esque Google searches on his laptop as discreetly as possible while at his office. He'd learned the hard way to keep his volume at the absolute minimum when researching such topics and tried desperately to figure out how to stop his face from getting red when reading in-depth articles on the subject of something so personal and intimate. 

Intimacy was such a misconstrued word in his brain. Carmen was the only person he'd ever been emotionally intimate with, and it pretty much ended there. Physical intimacy was a foreign concept, known only to him by the peculiar warm feeling that sometimes pooled in the pit of his stomach when she'd tangle her hands up in his hair or trace her fingertips along his jawline. It was a _nice_ peculiar warm feeling, and his instinct told him to chase it. He just wasn't quite sure how. 

_The yearly sexual health seminar at Wammy's was something most dreaded and some (Matt and Mello) got a kick out of. It started at around the equivalent of year six, and the seminar ranged from extremely general and boring to painfully strange and uncomfortable and was taught by a new instructor almost every year._

_Matt and Mello had started a year before Carmen and Near and told them of the horrors in seething detail and description. Apparently, the teacher, who'd been trying to debunk the "it doesn't fit" myth by blowing a condom up as large as possible, ended up popping the contraceptive device and splattering multiple students in the front of the classroom with lubricant. Of course, it was a different lady the following year._

_Near surveyed the dusty chalkboard from his desk as the kids waited on an authority figure. Matt and Mello chattered obnoxiously two rows in front of him, and Carmen sat in her chair next to him wiggling and cracking her knuckles._

_The teacher, a petite lady wearing a white sweater and bell-bottom pants, stumbled into the room carrying a multitude of canvas bags and wearing an atrocious shade of red lipstick. Her long, thin hair was draped over her shoulders like a shawl. Matt and Mello had made it sound like the teacher was going to be a pole dancer or one of those girls who danced provocatively in music videos - this woman looked like she plastered those clear stickers of Bible verses up on the walls of her home and maybe tended to a garden and some horses when she wasn't taking care of her four or five (in-wedlock) children. She apologized with a big smile for being late and proceeded with her lecture after receiving virtually no response._

_It was boring, but a lot of what Near learned was boring, so it was fair to say it was tolerable. The most interesting part of the week-long class had been when she handed out plushies representing different sexually transmitted diseases. He fidgeted with syphilis in his hands, the googly-eyed snake-shaped stuffed toy staring at him deadly. Carmen held HPV, and Mello chucked chlamydia at Matt's face._

_All sorts of awkward topics didn't necessarily register in his mind as awkward until a few years later. Post-Matt and Mello, when it was just him and Carmen sitting side by side as a new lady pointed at a diagram of the female anatomy, it finally dawned on him the difference between himself and the redhead next to him. He wanted to pick at his nails but his hands were frozen in place above his desk and his eyebrows were drawn together so slightly in an expression of analytical confusion. He looked to Carmen multiple times, who seemed to be staring through the board as she absently chewed on her hoodie string._

And now, all he could picture was that damn diagram (and the variations he'd found on the internet) and Carmen's profile as her hoodie string hung from her lips. 

The door to the apartment opening and closing cut his train of thought short. 

"Hello," Carmen singsonged softly, setting her backpack down at the foot of her desk chair. Her hair was back, a little pom-pom of red at the base of her neck, strands framing her face as she turned back to where he sat on the floor. That profile was not any less angelic in his opinion, but more hardened and grown-up, with bruise-like crescents beneath her silky lashes. He offered a gentle smile as she made her way over to him. A stack of novels sat beside his crouched figure as a card tower grew taller in front of him. 

She sat, mirroring him. The card tower put a wall between them, and their eyes met through little windows. 

Their relationship seemed more to be more of predestination than anything, a soul connection that couldn’t quite be explained. He couldn't even fathom being so emotionally close to someone else, much less physically intimate. Just like everything else had, perhaps it would just happen. They already spent so long connected at the hands, at the lips, and it was already so beautiful and so overflowing with adoration for the other that anything more wasn’t necessary. 

He said nothing, just looked at her, eyes melty and half-lidded, index fingernail between his teeth. 

Not that he tried too hard to hide it, but he remembered how well she could read him. Why would he _need_ to say anything? 

Ideas were swirling in his mind. She could see into his head. He didn't dare let his gaze falter, for that would tell her more, and she'd figure him out _too_ quickly.

"What are you thinkin' about?"

 _Put your hands in my hair right now._ He let his contemplative gaze drift to the left of her face, where it always went when he couldn't hold eye contact any longer. "Sex." 

Christ almighty, the boy was _blunt_. She was able to watch as his face heated up against his will, a light laugh escaping her mouth. "What about it?" 

He referred back to his mental Rolodex of knowledge, cursed with fleeting visuals thanks to his nearly-photographic memory, he was able to scrap up online. "I just want to try something."

Carmen continued to search his face, blood vessels pushing forth a blush onto her own cheeks. "What?"

His eyes flitted back to hers. "Take off your pants and I'll show you." 

It was a blank command, no bite behind it, but the pink blossomed to her ears now, too. He found his hands reaching out to tumble the card tower in front of them to the ground, palms sticking to glossy cardboard with the beginnings of a sheen of sweat as he leaned over the pile to kiss the girl. 

She kissed him back fervently, fingers curling along the back of his neck and into his hair, just how he had hoped. Even lacking in experience, she seemed to know what he wanted, and he seemed to know she would give it to him. 

She leaned into him, pressing him closer. They fumbled over to the bed, pinkies intertwined, teeth bumping together hopelessly, short and uncertain giggles and gasps coming from either one until she was sitting and he was standing over her. 

Her hands fell from his snowy white hair to the buttons on his shirt. Pale fingers grabbed her wrists unconsciously, and little whispers of _is that okay?_ drifted between them as he nodded and lifted the hem of hers. 

Both rid of a top, he found himself in awe of her. They'd lived together almost their whole lives - of course, it wasn't the first time he'd seen her without a shirt, but there was sweet _context_ this time and he tried his best to memorize the curvature of her spine with his touch and the sharpness of her collarbones with his lips. Her own hands trailed across his lightly freckled shoulders, down his slender arms to where his hands were planted on either side of her hips. Both of their bodies were alight with trembling anxiety at the others' touch. 

He kept referring back to his Rolodex, but everything flowed so naturally, as it always had, and he eventually left the Rolodex be.

His mouth was slow and gentle against her skin, and he paid special attention to the sighs she emitted when his tongue met the base of her throat. Giving an experimental bite, he was met with a squeeze to his hands and a sound that barely touched her vocal cords. He pressed kisses in a desperate pattern, wanting to hear more.

Near's face burned impossibly. He knew that as he was of her, she was hyper-receptive of every movement he made, and looking at her eyes would make him back out, so he stayed hovered over her jugular for a moment before dropping to his knees to trail a chain of kisses downward from the hemline of the grey bralette she wore. Pulling her impatiently by the waist closer to the edge of the bed, he paused and grabbed her by her wrists. 

“Stand up.”

It was such a simple command, so straightforward just as his nature permitted, but that hushed tone he was using made her stomach flip up to her chest and reverb all the way into her arms. She rose wordlessly, cheekbones broken out madly - he didn’t dare look up to see. Pale fingers dragged fabric down toward the floor as her hands pushed back white hair, drawing a shiver from the boy. Said fabric was discarded to the side and the lightest tap on the back of her knees prompted her to drop back down onto the mattress. He leaned forward to press one more kiss onto her stomach, his fingers white-hot on the skin of her hips, steely eyes finally inching upward to meet her hesitant ones as he put on a darkness that she wasn’t quite able to place. It was comparable to the concentration that crossed his gaze when he was deep in thought; intense, bored, confident, that little ingenuous half-smile tugging at the corner of his rosy lips. Her boy, who flinched at and shied away from the slightest change in the social atmosphere, was looking at her like he’d done this a million times before, and god, it was _hot_. 

Before his burst of confidence could falter, he let his tongue sink into her, guided by the gentle tugging at his hair and the soft, sweet sound of his real name falling from her mouth in ragged breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love italics can u tell hehe also why are cas songs like that.. why do they make me feel so sad and sexy at the same time xx


	17. beachboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw mention of dead parent but it's all in good sibling fun also tik tok reference cause i spend too much time on that hell app also flashback to wammy's idk what this is

_“It’s the acne for me.”_

_“It’s the dandruff for me.”_

_“It’s the sports goggles for me.”_

_“It’s the chewed off nails for me.”_

_“It’s the addiction for me.”_

_“Pack it up, Lady Bird.”_

_“Pack it up, Ronald McDonald.”_

_“Did you draw your face?”_

_“What breed of frog are you?”_

_“How’s the weather down there?”_

_“You scrape your knees crawling up from hell?”_

_“You must’ve been born on the highway ‘cause that’s where a lot of accidents happen.”_

_“It’s the being an Aquarius for me.”_

_“It’s the being a virgin for me.”_

_“It’s your boyfriend looking like Taylor Swift for me.”_

_“It’s the not knowing if you’re a boy or a girl for me.”_

_“It’s the being a bottom for me.”_

_“It’s the adderall prescription for me.”_

_“It’s the being a crack baby for me.”_

_“It’s the being a mistake for me.”_

_“It’s the dead dad for me.”_

_Immediately the two siblings exploded with laughter. Mello lounged on the bed next to Matt, confusion crossing his face as he munched on a chocolate bar. Near sat on the floor, previously inattentive until the dead dad insult was made. Carmen was doubled over in her chair, and Matt had rolled over onto his stomach to bury his head in a pillow as he gasped for air._

_In a single sweeping motion, the laughter ceased and the chair was toppled over and Carmen was in a chokehold. Near dove out of the way of the duo, and Mello verbally protested (not that loudly, however) when Matt appeared to be actually hurting his sister._

_“I can’t believe you called me a bottom!”_

_Carmen wiggled out of his grasp enough to bite into his forearm. Matt swatted her away and wailed a curse, and she was on the floor giggling again._

_Mello and Near eyed the two redheads with wide stares. Matt was rubbing away the teeth marks in his skin, and Carmen’s hair had been mussed up and she was curled into a ball clutching her stomach. Her fit subsided only for a moment to mumble out a quiet, “You are a bottom, Mattie.”_

_“Am not!” Matt landed a kick on the doorframe, and within a few moments, Roger burst into the room._

_“What the_ hell _is going on?”_

_“She bit me!”_

_“He tackled me.”_

_“She called me a bottom!”_

_“He_ is _a bottom!”_

_Roger scanned the four children with a question mark across his face, not really wanting to know but more or less relieved that no one was being maimed, before sighing and shutting the door._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this came to me at an ungodly hour the other morning bear with me it's finals week xx


	18. dedicated to the one i love

Near was hooked. Sure, he'd always considered Carmen to be pretty, but the concept of physical beauty wasn't something he paid a great deal of mind to. Her beauty lied in her loyalty and perseverance in his opinion as he'd come to realize how difficult staying stuck to his side all these years must have been. Parted from her brother, across the globe from her home, making sure he didn't strain himself in his work as much as she possibly could. She was stubborn, and he thought _that_ was pretty. She cared. What more could he ask for? 

Since he'd come to know her body as well as her mind, his perception of her grew more toward that of a madonna. He wasn't big on fate, but it was neat to reflect on the fact that some piece of shit people caused themselves and their kids enough pain to leave them in the hands of a dingy shelter that neglected them so harshly, and yet something so lovely came of it. If he didn't know better, he might have thought she was an angel, or maybe even a goddess. Gods didn't walk among men - no matter how hard they tried - but she seemed pretty damn close. 

That being said, observing her nudity was not inherently sexual and nothing less than spiritual for him. She reminded him strikingly of Praxiteles' Aphrodite of Knidos when she waved him over from the doorframe of the bathroom, hair back in a little bun, wisps of red framing her face, and a towel draped over her arm and cascading down her leg with nothing else to cover her. No stranger to the temple, of course, he scurried over. 

She was excited about her lavender bath salts, raving about the scent and the benefits while she hung up her towel and stepped into the water. He undressed somewhat hesitantly upon her insistence, still hyperconscious of his mortal frame, but as he sunk into the water across from her, any heed of blasphemy left his mind. 

He went to curl up into his routine posture, scrunched thanks to the walls of the tub, but her hands dove under the water for his wrists and her eyes sparkled. "Can I wash your hair? It's getting greasy." 

With a silent nod, he spun himself around. He can't remember a time when he'd ever objected to having her hands in his hair and he didn't foresee himself doing so anytime soon. 

Warm water fell from his scalp to the back of his neck to his shoulders, Carmen taking care to soak it to its roots before applying her tea tree oil-scented shampoo. His eyelids fluttered closed and his head lulled back as her fingers worked through his silvery locks, subconsciously wiggling closer to the heat she radiated until he was pretty much seated in her lap. She rinsed it out with scoops of water until the soap was beneath them and carded her fingers through and through to return it to its usual mop-like style. His even breathing left her thinking perhaps he'd fallen asleep sitting up, but a tilt forward and shake of his damp head assured her he was still with her. 

Carmen wrapped her arms around Near's middle, pressing her cheek to his pale shoulder with a deep sigh. She seemed warmer than the steaming water. Without thinking too much, he sank down and leaned back into her, prompting her to rest upon the wall and let her arms come to sling around his shoulders. He twisted to nestle into the side of her neck, absently shutting his eyes once more. She traced down his arms, across his chest, and up his face, pressing soft kisses to his forehead until the bath turned cold. 

He groaned in protest when she tapped him to get up. The water was dropping in temperature rapidly but she was like a heater. 

"Nate," she grumbled when he didn't move. "I'm freezing." 

"You'll be even more freezing if you get out," he mumbled, trying to convince her. He wound his arms under her thighs, rendering her almost immobile. 

"We can go lay on the couch under the blankets. It'll be warmer."

"I love the feeling of your skin. It's so soft." His voice was scratchy and muffled against her neck. Carmen sighed heavily again, his weight restraining her leading her to only one possible solution. 

"Nate," she pressed a kiss to his nose, "I'll count to three and you'll move. One." 

He said nothing. 

"Two." 

He opened his eyes groggily. 

"Three." 

Near didn't shift even a millimeter. What was she going to do? She couldn't just drag him out.

"Fine. I really didn't want to do this." 

Her fingertips dug into his sides and he catapulted himself upward with a screech that left her almost in tears laughing. Water splashed them both as he scrambled away from her, giving in to her tactic. She willed herself up after him, reaching for the two towels and tossing one at him. He barely caught it before it hit the water, which would have been a tragedy of the highest degree. His skin ached already with the loss of her warmth. 

They dried off and she tugged his white shirt over her head, wearing nothing other than a pair of tiny shorts. He pulled on his pants and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her up clumsily with strength Carmen didn't realize he had, not putting her down until he'd made his way to the couch, cocooning them both up in the sheet of fleece that hung over the cushions. He wasn't content until she wrapped around him again from underneath, nails trailing down his pale exposed back. Near loved nothing more than being held in her soothing confines. The ambient storm clouds of the afternoon sky falling through the windows lulled the pair into a rare nap, hearts thumping against each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ i want to fall asleep with this boy on my chest so bad while this song crackles out of a record player and it rains. lord. fuck. please i love him, so muc h ,,xx


End file.
